


I Got You On My Mind

by inpiniteu



Category: NU'EST
Genre: 2hyun Cameo, Alternate Universe - Office, Bodyguard Dongho, CEO Minhyun, I Tried, M/M, Masturbation, Porn Video, Secrets, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:21:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25978879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inpiniteu/pseuds/inpiniteu
Summary: Simple, that’s him, and that single word compasses what is keeping him apart from men living in luxurious mansions, owning fancy cars and wearing watches that are worth annual salaries.Men like Hwang Minhyun.Nothing is really simple, though, and that's what Kang Dongho is about to find out.
Relationships: Hwang Minhyun/Kang Dongho | Baekho
Comments: 5
Kudos: 41
Collections: Nu'fics x The Parallel





	I Got You On My Mind

**Author's Note:**

> It's an office AU (well, kind of), porn AU (sort of, if you squint), written for The Parallel, and to get me out of my writing slump. 
> 
> I don't know what I'm doing and why I thought I could do a chaptered fic but please bare with me, and enjoy?
> 
> This is unbetaed so feel free to point out mistakes!

Dongho doesn’t really consider himself as a bodyguard, despite it being his job title.

He isn’t because Hwang Minhyun, while being the CEO of a promising start-up, doesn’t require protection. 

Indeed, in the three years that Dongho has been working for him, nothing worth mentioning has happened. Nothing _at all_. Minhyun hasn’t gotten a single threat in the mail, nor an attempt on his life has been made. 

The craziest stunt that Dongho remembers happening on the job is a drunk driver ramming into their car in the middle of the night when Dongho was busy driving Minhyun home. The eighty-year-old ahjussi responsible for the accident hadn't looked like he had been sent to terminate the CEO of _Hwang Inc._ , though, and in retrospective, had looked fairly impressed _and_ terrified by Dongho's build.

Still, while Dongho didn't imagine that being a bodyguard would entail such little action, he doesn’t mind the job. He's aware many people would label it boring, but it's easy, pays good money, and well, there are worst fates than sticking as closely as possible to Hwang Minhyun. 

Minhyun is a nice guy to be around and Dongho likes his company. They aren’t exactly close, which is normal because Dongho is still his employee first and foremost, but they’ve talked a few times over shared meals. It’s been interesting to see his usually composed boss transform into a dorky guy who shares Dongho’s passion for music and that side of him is so different from the one Dongho is usually a witness of that it still gives him whiplash at times. 

He's privileged, he knows, and rare are the people who can see a different side of one of the most eligible bachelors in Korea, and all things considered, that's probably why he enjoys every second of those shared meals. They were rare at first, but have recently started to become more and more frequent as Dongho happens to be the one who has to remind Minhyun that he’s human and that humans, no matter their wealth or intelligence, are all equal in the fact they need to eat for survival. 

In that sense, he could be considered a glorified babysitter more than a bodyguard. It wouldn’t be far off from the truth, especially since he’s the one who has packed lunch for the two of them in the morning.

Packing lunches is definitely not on his task list, but then again, care and protection aren’t too far off in his opinion. His boss needs someone to keep his overachieving tendencies in check, too, and Dongho doesn't mind taking on the role. Food is important, anyway.

Today’s lunch is just left-overs from yesterday's dinner. If Minhyun is displeased by the fact he's not eating fresh food, he doesn’t show it. On the contrary, the smile he flashes Dongho as the bodyguard puts a fuming bowl of kimchi jjigae in front of him is wide and appreciative. 

Minhyun’s office is spacious, and there's a completely separate space on the side; one with a table, a leather couch, and even a small kitchen area—nothing more than a microwave and a coffee machine, Minhyun says all the time—, but still. That’s where they’re sitting right now, facing each other and ready to eat. 

“You’re a lifesaver, Dongho-yah,” Minhyun says, already reaching for the spoon Dongho set on the table earlier. “It looks really good! Smells divine, too!”

“Thank yo—” Dongho starts, smiling softly. His cooking skills aren’t exceptional by any means, and no one, except for his mother, has ever complimented him on them.

His mom’s compliments were probably out of bias for her son, though, which invalidates them just a tiny bit. Minhyun’s hold no bias. 

Minhyun has tasted finer cuisine, and considering his position in society, has visited a fair share of five-star restaurants all over the world, so to see him being so enthusiastic over a soup made of whatever was left inside Dongho’s fridge last night means a lot to him.

Dongho is about to thank his boss some more and enquire about how he likes the soup just when Minhyun's eagerness to eat results in him sporting a bright red stain on his otherwise pristine white shirt and the words die on his lips. They twitch in amusement, though, and Dongho has to bite hard on them to refrain himself from laughing out loud.

Minhyun groans out in annoyance, frustrated at himself, and Dongho's breath hitches in his throat.

He shakes his head to clear his thoughts before rushing to the built-in closet which is, luckily for him, on the other side of the office. Being as far away as Hwang Minhyun is good for his sanity. "On it," he says loudly.

He flings the closet door open, only to find himself facing a dozen of similar expensive white shirts. Expensive men and their expensive lifestyles. “You’re wearing Dior today, right?” 

Dongho doesn’t care much about fashion. His favorite pair of Adidas track pants and his collection of sleeveless shirts are more comfortable than the suits he wears daily, and that’s all that matters to him. Fashion is for people who have a statement to make. Kang Dongho doesn't. 

Hwang Minhyun is a different story. If Dongho’s suits are of good quality, it’s only because they’re provided by the company and handpicked by the CEO himself. Whenever he's working, Dongho isn't himself anymore. He's Hwang Minhyun's shadow, and even to that extent, it means being impeccable. 

Impeccable, just like Minhyun. Indeed, the man knows how to dress, but then again, Dongho thinks it’s to be expected from a man whose looks could belong on the runway if he wanted to go down that path.

“No,” Minhyun replies and Dongho waits for him to elaborate. Minhyun soon does in a strong voice, “Get me Armani.”

Dongho hums loudly, and grabs the right shirt before slamming the closet door close. He has to confess that Minhyun’s tendency to overly be prepared sometimes come in handy.

“You’re truly clumsy, you know,” Dongho teases as he rushes back to his boss’ side. “It’s—”

He falls silent at the sight that greets him, trying not to stare but obviously failing. It’s the first time he’s seeing his boss shirtless, and Dongho doesn’t know what he expected, but it wasn’t _this_.

Minhyun is standing shirtless, his shirt in his hand and his tongue peeking out of his mouth as he lightly rubs the stain with a towel. His brows are furrowed together in concentration, and if Dongho has to guess, probably exasperation as well.

The sight is oddly cute and endearing, and for a second, Dongho forgets that cute and endearing aren’t words he should use when thinking about his boss. Forgets that it is dangerous territory, that he shouldn’t go there no matter what.

Clearing his throat, he steps closer and hands the shirt over. It’s slightly rumpled where he hold it, and he should’ve known better than to tightly close his fingers around such fabric, but luck is on his side as Minhyun doesn’t notice, still too focused on trying to make the stain come off. 

In the end, Dongho just drops the shirt on the back of the closest chair and grabs Minhyun's now lukewarm bowl of soup, busying himself by putting it in the microwave again. They still need to eat.

Anything to not look at Hwang Minhyun, he thinks, his gaze fixed on the microwave and the timing decreasing oh-so-slowly.

Anything to not think about Hwang Minhyun, and how unattainable he is.

  


***

  


Dongho is unusually tense once he gets home. Days, when he's unable to go to the gym and exercise, usually drive him antsy, but never to that extent. Today, he feels trapped in this cage he calls home and he hates it. 

By all means, everyone stepping inside his apartment would share the same feeling. The one-bedroom apartment he's living in is situated above a Japanese restaurant and is rather small. Small spaces are easier to take care of, though, and he doesn't need lot of room considering the little time he spends at home. It’s simple, too. Simple, just like him and his life, and that's how he likes things to be.

Tonight, though, as he takes a look at the mismatched furniture and the overflowing basket of laundry in the corner, he can't help but frown. The squeaky noise his sofa makes as he flops on it drives the final nail in the coffin and he's suddenly laughing like a mad man. Like he's lost his head, and perhaps he has.

Simple, that’s him, and that single word compasses what is keeping him apart from men living in luxurious mansions, owning fancy cars and wearing watches that are worth annual salaries. 

Men like Hwang Minhyun.

Dongho shakes his head at that thought, but the buzzing energy in his veins is stronger than ever and burns the tip of his fingers. He knows what it means, and he doesn’t need to look down at himself to know he’s half-hard in his pants.

“Fuck this,” he grumbles, but his cock is already out of his pants by the time he turns his laptop on.

He quickly opens a porn website, the first that comes to mind from his memories of a teenager. He will be able to think about what he's doing and its implications later, but for now, he just wants to stop thinking. 

He's never been an avid porn watcher in the first place, his taste too peculiar, but tonight calls for it, calls for anything that can distract him from the pale, flawless skin of his boss and the way he's coveting someone he'll never be able to get. 

His fingers betray him, though, both in the way they wrap around his cock and the words they type. _Korean gay office sex_.

He throws his head back, a groan leaving his lips. Whatever he's doing is wrong, and he should stop. He should but he can't, and as he clicks on the first video listed, he's already gripping himself harder while waiting for the video to load.

His first thought is that it's definitely amateur, based on the single angle of the camera and the average quality of it. The two guys are also a bit too far to properly be captured on screen, and the fact that they’re only using the lamp on top of the desk makes it difficult to see any face.

Dongho doesn’t care much, he isn’t there for looks. He’s in it for the context, is in it for the small, tan boy who is luckier than him, and is getting the fucking of his life by his boss on camera. It's only a scenario, he knows, not that there was much talking in the first place. Still, the pleading and the breathless " _please, sir,"_ are making his head reel.

He gathers some precum with his fingers, spreading it all over the head and down his shaft as if on auto-pilot, and his eyes not leaving the two figures on the screen. The video doesn't have many redeeming qualities, really, but Dongho finds himself captivated in the way they touch each other. It's rough, hard sex, and the pleasure isn't faked. Dongho appreciates that and wouldn't mind having that for himself someday. 

One of the two actors groan loudly, and it’s funny, Dongho thinks, how the more he watches, the more the "boss" in the six-minute video is starting to look like the man he doesn't want to think about.

The same tall build, the same dark brown hair hanging over his eyes, the same smooth, milky skin—

And then, Dongho sees it. The camera catches the back of the one being called "boss", catches the moon phase tattoo Dongho knows is inked on Hwang Minhyun’s spine.

Dongho comes right there and then, with a strangled cry that sounds a bit too much like the name of his boss and cum splashing all over the screen of his laptop.

_Fuck._

  


***

  


Once he’s calmed down and cleaned himself, Dongho finds himself staring at his laptop in disbelief. His boss is filming porn and he doesn't know what to do with that information.

That video isn’t even a mistake or a leak like he thought at first. Oh no, Hwang Minhyun has a porn channel with his lover, or at least, his regular partner considering all the videos only feature the two of them. It's crazy, and yet, Dongho might be even crazier for deciding to not forget about this. He doesn't want to, and instead, tries to make sense of what he's just stumbled upon.

He quickly learns that both men don’t go by their names, which only seems logical, and they also never show their faces completely. Sometimes, they're a bit closer to the camera, wearing masquerade masks to conceal their identities. Those videos, in particular, make Dongho laugh until his stomach hurts. They look a bit silly in those, for one, and the masks also conceal so little it seems ridiculous they would bother with them.

Or maybe, that’s just him. 

He knows Minhyun’s face way too well, after all. It’s the only one he sees all day, sometimes at night. What he's just seen is going to haunt him, though, and it's exactly when he realizes what he's done and the consequences that are bound to follow.

Dongho sighs and plays a new video. Tomorrow is another day.

  


***

  


“You look like hell, Dongho-yah,” is the first thing Minhyun says upon stepping inside the car and closing the backseat door.

Dongho thinks he must truly look bad if his boss has noticed that without even getting a proper look at his face. 

He takes a look at himself in the central rearview mirror, and grimaces. Stubble doesn’t look professional and neither do eyebags and he makes a mental note to fix that as soon as possible. 

He looks like hell, indeed, or like the piece of shit he feels like. What he's done last night is wrong for multiple reasons and he should've stopped the moment he figured it out. He hadn't, though, instead spending the whole night watching all the videos available on OptiBugi’s channel, and waking up on his couch with an empty travel pack of tissues stuck on his right cheek. He has no excuse, and strangely enough, no regrets either.

“Sorry, boss,” he says, glad he’s driving and thus has a legitimate excuse to not look at the sole reason for his predicament. "I'll go shave as soon as we arrive in the office."

Minhyun hums and Dongho catches him crossing his legs in the mirror. “Rough night?” He asks, and what is supposed to be an innocent question is anything but.

Dongho doesn’t know what to say. Or more accurately, he knows what to say, but the words that threaten to slip past his lips can't be uttered.

Not if he wants to keep this job, and he does.

“Something like that,” he decides to say, not elaborating even though he knows it's not the answer his boss is waiting for. It’s a friendly exchange, one like many they’ve had before, but today, Dongho doesn’t want to talk.

Either Minhyun doesn’t get the message, or he doesn’t care what Dongho wants. For some reason, Dongho wouldn’t be surprised if it was both.

“Did you meet someone?” He asks curiously, leaning a bit forward. “I imagine women must love that build of yours.”

For some reason, the comment puts Dongho on edge. His hands grip the wheel harder, and he's looking straight ahead as he replies. “Men, too.”

Only silence greets his answer but he doesn't feel proud of himself. He doesn't know what the two of them are playing at, but he knows he doesn't want to play. Playing with fire is dangerous and he should stop before he gets burned. 

Minhyun’s face betrays nothing, but then again, Dongho knows better than to expect any kind of reaction. He's a businessman, and businessmen know a great deal about playing dirty. Hwang Minhyun included.

Dongho watches in the mirror as Minghyun simply licks his lips and then leans back in his seat. Dongho gulps. “ _Oh_.”

He adds something in a low voice, too, something Dongho doesn't correctly catch. It could be a trick of his imagination, or at least, Dongho thinks it is because there’s no way he heard that, right? 

_Definitely me too._ It can't be what he heard, it _can't_ be. Sleep deprivation is truly driving him mad and he needs some sleep, and fast. Either that or a long break away from Seoul and Hwang Minhyun—whatever works best, truly.

For now, he'll just find solace in the silence of the car. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and stay tuned for more... hopefully!
> 
> Also, a special thank you to all the people who supported me during the slump and believe in me more than I do.


End file.
